


Infected Girls (Do It Better)

by spellwing777



Category: Watchmen (Comic), Watchmen - All Media Types
Genre: I got from Agnes, I'm also a fan of Electric six, If you got that reference you know your a fan of tom lehrer, It buuuurns, M/M, Really accurate depiction of STD's, TL is a nasty ho, They lent their song title to this work of...art, played for laughs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-06-08 18:12:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 21,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6868015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spellwing777/pseuds/spellwing777
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once again, an answer to a kinkmeme request, this time for Dan screwing around with a slutty girl like TL going to it's natural and realistic conclusion with, you guessed it: STDs!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dan was starting to understand that his partner’s reluctance about this was some combination of leftover religious prohibition, disgust at the homosexuality, good-ol’-fashioned nervousness, and some lingering issues about his own self-worth that Dan had done his best to smother with kisses.

Tonight the kisses-combined with a nice massage and a lot of cuddling-seemed to be working; and that was just the work he’d done _in_ the bed. It didn’t include the amount of wheedling it had taken him to get him up the stairs for coffee (like a cat the just _knows_ when you want to take it to the vet, Rorschach _knew_ when Dan had more than coffee on his mind) He’d expected more of a fight about the costume, but his partners vigilante persona was apparently sacrosanct, and needed to be kept separate. Not that he hadn’t seen his partner’s face before; its just he was usually more reluctant about exposing himself. 

He wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth though, not with teeth like his; although at least he _had_ brushed them, which told Dan that, for all his reluctance, he did want this. He was just glad to have him here; jittery as hell, but _here_. And, wonders of wonders, he had a name to call him by; because his partner was uncomfortable with being called ‘Rorschach’ in the bedroom. ‘Walter’ didn’t really suit him, but he probably would have killed Dan if he tried to call him ‘Walt’ or ‘Wally’ or any derivative thereof, so it looked like he was stuck with it. Dan just hoped he wouldn’t slip up and call him Rorschach, or even worse, ‘Leslie’. He’d stopped seeing her two months ago when he and Rorschach had crossed the line past friendship, but Rorschach was still jittery about the subject of her and Dan having once been together.

...But he was getting off track. Better to focus on the here and now and the person he was currently with.

“Walter,” He actually _shivered_ when he said it, and hey, maybe that name wasn’t so bad-“You doing alright?”

He swallowed, then nodded. “Sorry I am...”

He trailed off, and Dan gave him a reassuring squeeze, knowing what he couldn’t say. Yeah, sure this was difficult, but if Walter was willing to push through his issues then Dan was willing to be patient. And they were definitely making progress; just a month ago he hadn’t seen his partner’s face or known his name. Two months ago Dan hadn’t known that the depths of his partner’s feelings for him ran deeper than friendship. At least, not until Dan was hit and bleeding out on the floor of Archie _No, no, stay with me, love-_

And he may have choked on the ‘you’ and Dan might have lost enough blood to black out, but not enough to forget what he said. Although he didn’t remember having his costume stripped, being shoved into some spare clothes he kept in the ship, and dropped off at a local hospital. Waking up **not** dead ad with that rattling around in his head had been...fun. Even less fun was recovering, suiting up as soon as he was able, and tracking down Rorschach; who’d been avoiding him ever since. Worth it, because after convincing him he wasn’t angry, and admitting that, yeah, he felt the same-

Worth it, because the tentative kiss at the corner of his mouth that interrupted his stumbling confession was sweet and gentle and made him want so much more.  
It had taken damn near 2 months of courting before they'd come to this point, with Dan's hand creeping under the waistband of his boxers, tickling the coarse hair there and making Walter shiver. Dan grinned against his neck and finally slid the worn material down so he could wrap his hand around the shaft, which was already rock-hard. Not that he wasn't far behind, but it was nice to see-and feel-that he wasn't the only one that had been looking forward to this. He didn't reach down to take care of himself, not wanting to miss this for anything.

Walter was clinging tightly to him now, which was nice but he wished he could slide down that lean body and wrap his mouth around him. Not that he'd need it, from the way he was already rocking his hips Walter wouldn't last long. Lying next to him Dan had a great view of his usually impassive face, which was now flushed, the eyes glassy and the mouth hanging slack. Dan's eyes happily roved over the mercilessly cut torso, the flush reaching all the way down to heaving chest. And, of course, down to his cock which was dripping precum all over Dan's fist wrapped around it. Just a few strokes in and that's all it took too set him off, which wasn't unexpected, considering he was a virgin. It was still great to watch though, especially the way it seemed to go on forever, his abs jumping with uncontrollable spasms and the way he twisted on the sheets. The ridiculous amount of cum slicking his hand was hot too, even if it proved his suspicions that the guy never jacked off and it made a mess.

Dan was tempted to try a taste, but he knew Walter lived off meat and canned foods and that was not a good idea. An even better idea might be to slick himself down with it and jack off furiously, but he wasn't sure how Walter would react now that he was coming down from his orgasmic high. Dan sighed, and decided to limp to the bathroom to get a wet washcloth to wipe him down because Walter was a little too out of it to do it himself. The hall seemed to go on forever, but as soon as he was in he slid a hand towards his own neglected cock while he replayed the scene in the bedroom, using the hand that was coated with still-warm cum.

At first, the burn was minimal. At first.

Until he came, and then it felt like fire ants had crawled inside of his urethra.

He yelped embarrassingly loud and nearly brained himself on the washbasin when he tripped over the bathroom rug stupidly trying to run away from his own dick. He just stayed where he was for a minute, hissing as the burn slowly subsided. He was almost recovered when he heard a tentative knock at the door.

"Daniel?" Walter sounded concerned. "Are you alright?"

Dan sucked in a breath passed gritted teeth, wondering how the hell to explain that he felt like his dick had a sunburn on the inside.

"I, uh," He gasped, voice high "Stubbed my toe!"

Walter made a vaguely sympathetic noise, and earned Dan's eternal gratitude for being the type of person that wouldn't laugh at his pain. He tugged up his boxers to make himself at least somewhat less of a mess and nudged the door open. Walter was in pretty much a similar state, his hands hovering over his stomach trying uselessly to cover up the drying streaks of cum on his lower stomach. The poor guy had probably jumped up and stumbled down here as soon as Dan had yelped. Walter flushed in embarrassment when he noticed Dan looking, and he took pity on the guy.

"Come on in." Dan took his arm and tugged him in before he could object. "I was gonna get a washcloth for you, but do you want to share a shower?"

He was pretty sure that Walter would say no-their was already more nakedness and close contact than he was used too today-but to Dan's surprise he agreed. Either that hand job had relaxed him, or he was-correctly-assuming that Dan wasn't about to try any funny business. He felt a warm glow when he found out it was neither, five minutes into the shower he found out that Walter just wanted a post-orgasm cuddle. It was difficult to shower when his partner was reluctant to remove his arms from around Dan's torso, but he was happy to work around it.

He kissed the top of Walter's head, the gesture feeling kinda sappy but he didn't care. "Stay for the night?"

Walter pulled away, shaking his head. "Cant." He huffed. "Work in the morning."

Dan made a sympathetic noise, running his fingers through Walter's hair under the pretense of getting all the soap out, trying to put off the inevitable. All too soon he pulled away, drying himself quickly and determinedly not looking at Dan. He grinned, naked and unashamed, knowing that he was sneaking glances when he thought Dan want looking. Every little bit helped, especially when it was encouraging a sexually repressed guy like his partner.


	2. Chapter 2

Dan never really liked visiting the doctor's office, and rarely ever went for anything other than a yearly physical or the occasion broken bone. Usually if something happened on patrol that needed a doctor, he had to strip off his Nite Owl costume and get in spare clothes from Archie so he could ride in the back of an ambulance. He could count those instances on one hand; one of the occasions being a near-death experience. He didn't like spending any more time than he could help in hospitals or doctor's offices and avoided them like the plague, as it always invariably brought up bad memories of his father in the late stages of his lingering illness. The only person who avoided hospitals more than he did was his partner, but that was out of a purely practical need. Hospitals were expensive and he couldn't really afford them, but Dan would never think to insult his pride by offering to pay. So, he did the best he could for the guy and kept splints on hand.

But today, he was even less that enthused about visiting. He could think of few things he wanted less than to talk to his doctor about how it burned like hell when he came. Or, how the last two days after, it had felt like he was pissing battery acid. He was way too fucking young and healthy for a disease like a urinary track infection-seriously, it was something his grandfather had complained of, in excruciating detail-but he was pretty sure that his symptoms matched and that's what he had. It was going to be embarrassing, but it was too damn painful to try to sit at home and wait it out.

One of the nurses walked out, surveying the room. "Dreiberg, Daniel?" 

Dan sighed, and followed.

\---

Dr. Blood (full name 'Grant Blood' and Dan had to resist, every time, asking if his parents had done that intentionally) directed him to sit down on the crinkly paper. Dan rolled through the usual questions and the formalities, and finally they got to the actual reason of why he'd scheduled a visit. He decided to omit the whole debacle of, well, first time sex with his partner. It wasn't just embarrassing, but he knew his partner would just _die_ if he told someone about their relationship. Not to mention Dan had no idea how open-minded his doctor was, Dan stuck to the whole 'it burns when I piss' crap, and tried not to squirm. He knew what that sounded like, and endured the questions about his sex life. Yes, he'd been in a relationship with a woman a month and a half ago. No, they hadn't had unprotected penetrative sex. Yes, they'd done oral without the raincoat on, but who hasn't?

...Wait, you can get STDs from oral sex?

How are you going to get a culture from _inside_ my penis? Uh, what is that swab for?

\---

Fifteen minutes after being introduced to a whole new, intimate level of pain (the numbing gel hadn't been enough to numb all of it, and fuck no, he didn't want a shot of local anesthetic) and he was well enough to limp away on his own, trying not to sniffle like a bitch in front of the woman and her kid in the waiting room. He was just barely able to hale down a cab, and as soon as he was in it, folded around his abused manhood. He ignored the speculative look from that cabbie because he could just go fuck himself, it was his penis and he'd whimper if he wanted to.

At least he'd had the presence of mind to make sure the doc took a mouth swab to see if anything was lingering there too. He'd be damned if he'd pass this on to his partner, even though Dr. Blood had said that he would have had to have an open sore or cut in his mouth to contract it orally from the twilight lady, and he wasn't likely to pass it on through just kissing.   
Of course, that brought on another problem: how to prevent spreading it...other ways. The Doc had gone into cringe-worthy detail, telling him that he could still have sex with someone, so long as he wore a rubber during penetrative sex or oral, and hand jobs were all right if his partner washed his hands right after and he didn't have any cuts or sores on them. Unfortunately Dan wasn't likely to do any of that, considering how badly it had burned the last time he'd come. He had no idea how long it was going to be before he was cured, so he was _not_ looking forward to an indeterminate amount of time where he couldn't get off. He was betting he was going to have a long period of enforced chastity, and a painful case of blue balls by the end of it. What's more, he had no idea how the hell to tell his partner. It made him physically cringe, hard, imagining telling the guy that he'd caught a nasty disease from his last lover. His partner had always reviled the Twilight Lady, even before he'd slept with her, and his attitude towards her had not improved when he'd found out Dan was sleeping with her. He'd also been decidedly cool towards Dan when he'd been her lover, and was still a little prickly about the subject. 

Locked in those cheerful thoughts, he barely noticed when the taxi pulled up to the brownstone. He sighed, paid, and limped inside, ready to drink a beer and pass out. Hopefully, he could sleep on it and a solution would present itself.

\---

And, wouldn't you know it, something did present itself when his woke up, and it wasn't a solution.

"GAHH!" He scrambled to get away from the face inches from his own. Of course that just ended up with him hitting the headboard, getting tangled in his sheets, and falling on the floor. Walter looked down at him, concerned.

"...My life is a sitcom." Dan groaned.

His lip twitched, but at least his partner didn't laugh, even though he was sure he looked ridiculous. "Have to remark on how odd it is that you never reacted like that when I came in with a mask on to wake you up."

"Years of seeing your mask as the first thing when I wake up from a beating and knowing I'm safe probably did it." Dan grinned at him from the floor. Walter blinked, a little taken aback at first, as unused to compliments as he always was. Only now Dan could see the way the smile spread across his face as he absorbed the sentiment in the words. God, he was so glad that he could see the guy's face now. He knew he was a helpless sap, but when that usually serious face broke into a smile, it made it all the more special. 

"Still find it odd that my mask doesn't scare you. Even the other masks find it unnerving." Walter said, and knelt to help him untangle him from the sheets. "I recall you being the only one out of all of them that practically tripped over himself trying to make friends with me. Even Adrian, the one that wanted to make us all into a team, wasn't that eager."

"Buddy, we both know how surreal all of this is." Dan said, as he was slowly untangled. "I am the only person in a city of people that fears 'the terror of the underworld' that finds your black-and-white mask comforting hovering over me when I come back into the land of the living."

"Only because you know I'm good at keeping you from dying of blood loss with my stitching." He said, unwinding the sheet tangled around Daniel's lower legs. "Doesn't explain why you wanted to be my partner so badly at first. You just knew me as another vigilante with an unusual mask then."

"Your voice reminded me of the Shadow, and you dressed like a '40s detective. You know I'm a sucker for nostalgia, how the hell could I resist?" That got an amused chuckle of his partner, and Dan grinned.

"Your specifically fond of the golden age of vigilantes in the 40's. Being a fan of Nite Owl senior and all."

"Yeah, and you are more of a general fan of 1940's," Dan eyed his civilian outfit, and he could see the straps of suspenders under the light jacket he was wearing. "Being fond of the fashion and all."

"More of a practical reason why I dress like this. Usually what you can find for cheap at the salvation army." He frowned at his jacket. "Sometimes I wonder who's dead father's clothes I'm wearing."

Dan laughed. "Right, it has nothing to do with the fact that you look good in them." 

Walter snorted, but he still got a little pink. He was so goddamn pale it was easy to make him flush, which just looked even more ridiculous on that craggy, rough face. Dan would make cheesy flirting comments to him all day if he'd let him, just to see his face get almost as red as his hair. He was still uncomfortable with that kind of thing though, so he restricted himself to one-or two-flirtations a day.

"I have a very blunt face with a square jaw. Classic severe lines suit me best." He prodded Dan's stomach. " _You_ , on the other hand..."

"You calling me fat?" Dan said indignantly, tugging on his suspenders. " 'Cause I know that's not a beer gut you're feeling. Just because not everyone has abs they can grate cheese on like you doesn't mean they're fat."

"Hnn, no." Walter spread his hand flat on his stomach, feeling the muscle there. "Not at all."

It was Dan's turn to blush. He was actually coming on to him, even if it was in a very subtle way and he could see from Walter's set expression and pink face that he was really trying not to let his embarrassment show. That was...really titillating, and god damn it _why_ did this have to happen when he was essentially a plague bearer and couldn't follow up on Walter's obvious 'come hither'? Oh god, and he still had to tell him, too. _Fuck, think fast!_

"So, ah, what do you mean?" He stalled, trying not to let his voice get too breathy with combined lust and panic.

"Have a more rounded look. Larger frame, stockier. Generously muscled frame." Walter licked his lips nervously, and Dan desperately wanted to the do the same. "Would look best in softer lines. I would suggest business shirt and slacks. Maybe a wool cardigan layer over it."

Dan blinked. So, not only was his partner giving serious fashion advice, he was suggesting he dress like Mr. Doberty, his engineering teacher in college. He couldn't help it, he laughed. "So, a college professor?"

Walter blinked too, then chuckled. "Hnn, didn't mean that intentionally, but yes. Also, I'd suggest browns and tans. Look very nice in neutral colors."

"Thanks, buddy. I'll keep it in mind." He grinned up at him, and inwardly he was silently rejoicing that he'd found a way to derail the situation, and weeping that he wasn't going to get any, situation below the belt or no. "You want breakfast? I'm pretty hungry."

"Already had mine, but I would like some lunch." He said, agreeably.


	3. Chapter 3

Walter tried to make it a point to eat at least one meal with Daniel, to spend some amount of time outside of being Rorschach with him. Between being a vigilante at night and working during the day, what little time that wasn't spent on getting the sleep he desperately needed was used to grow and maintain their fledgling relationship. Daniel appreciated the effort, and it felt nice, homey, to eat a meal with him in the brownstone or at a deli down the street. And, ever since finally getting over the hurdle of first time sex with him, he felt a lot less anxious about spending time with him as Walter and potentially doing more than just sharing a meal with him. God had not smited him with lightning, Daniel hadn't laughed at him coming in less than a minute, etc. etc. after that first time, so he was reasonably sure the second time would be even better. He felt more confident, more willing, to try to initiate sex instead of leaving it solely up to Daniel. It was only fair, after all; he didn't want their relationship to be one-sided. 

And, well, it might also have something to do with waking up from dreams the last two days of Daniel's large hand wrapped around his cock.

Walter swallowed, and tried not to think about it. He'd been shamefully aroused the last two days, waking from those dreams rutting against the sheets. He'd even given in once, just to get some peace for a few hours so he wouldn't embarrass himself at work. Of course his conscience had been screaming at him the entire time about how wrong it was, but he didn't have much of a choice if he wanted some relief. At least the revulsion and stinging self-hatred he'd felt before starting this relationship had eased back, tempered by the reassurances from Daniel. He'd said, over and over again, that his emotional attachment to him wasn't deviant, and his sexual urges weren't disgusting. He forced himself to override his feelings of shame and believe it, not just for Daniel but for his own mental well-being. And it helped a great deal, actually. He felt more at peace with himself, calmer. He'd still faced a moral debate with himself that morning, but he'd been able to do it. And it was doubly intense, because now he had something much more tangible to fantasize about. It worried him a little though that while it temporarily satisfied, it made him hungrier for the real thing. He supposed it was simply a side effect of actually having more than his own hand available. 

It shamed him to admit that he'd actually come over here with the express purpose of seducing Daniel, not just spending social time with him. He'd always be happy to be around his best friend and...lover? Significant other? He refused to call him boyfriend, that sounded juvenile-but damned if he wasn't needing more intimate touches than just a hand on his shoulder. The last two days he'd been clocking overtime at his job and as Rorschach, saving up for rent and tracking down the leader of a new drug ring. He finally had some free time now, and he wanted to do more with Daniel than eat a meal, although at the moment that seemed to be the first thing on his partner's mind. Not that he could blame him, Daniel had just woken up and was probably starving. He was too, to think about it. That was just fine, he could wait until after they'd both eaten.

Dan was tempted to pull out some slacks and a dress shirt-vest combo just because of their earlier conversation, but he'd just be taking it off again to put his Nite Owl costume on in a couple of hours, so he wasn't going to bother. Whatever he chooses to wear though, he was going to be watched putting it on, he could bet. Dan could practically feel the guy's eyes on him while he changed out of his sleepwear and into some sweats. He'd probably have to endure Walter watching him like a starving man eyeing a side of beef when he changed into his costume too. He quick glanced back, and of course he was watching, and glanced away when Dan 'caught' him, but this time he didn't whip his head around trying to hide. He flushed a little, but he seemed to have some difficulty tearing his eyes away. Which was hot, and really fucking frustrating at the same time. For both of them, actually. Dan was enduring a bout of pain-enforced chastity, but he could bet that his partner was suffering too. 

It had been two days since their last roll in the hay, and Walter had been too damn busy with work to get enough time to show up for more than a half-hour before patrol. Just enough time for a quick dinner, nothing else. And because he'd shown up as Rorschach, Dan hadn't even tried to kiss him or even hug him because he wasn't sure if he was allowed to show his partner normal domestic affection when he was in costume. Walter didn't like to be Rorschach during sex, but he wasn't sure if that prohibition extended to anything else. And after patrol, his partner would take off the costume, but they were just too tired from chasing the new drug dealer on the block to do anything but rest on the couch together in an exhausted pile until Walter had to leave for work.

He sometimes wished he'd just quit his thankless day job and move in with him out of his crappy apartment, but he understood. They'd only been together for a little over month after all, moving in together was still a big step. And just because Dan had enough money from his inheritance and various invention patents to provide for both of them didn't mean Walter would be content being a 'kept' man. He needed his independence, and Dan wouldn't dream of taking that away from him. Besides, it really meant a lot to the both of them when Walter saved enough to treat him to dinner rather than the other way around. Or buy him a small gift for his birthday, such as the glass owl he kept in an honored position with the rest of his most prized possessions, like signed minutemen memorabilia and the rare family photo that included both his mother and father at the same time.

He still wished, sometimes, that his partner at least had a better job. One that paid more, so he wouldn't have to clock in a shit ton of overtime just to pay his rent every month. One that allowed him to have more free time to do whatever he liked, such as spending time with him or actually having a hobby. Something that let him have some down time between work and Rorschach, because all work and no play...well, forget being dull, it was just really fucking unhealthy for anyone's mental and physical state. And for his sex life, apparently, because Walter must be really hard up to be struggling to go through the normal pretense of denial and avoidance that he usually did whenever something even the least bit 'immoral' popped up (like Dan's bare ass when he got out of his pajama bottoms so he could put on some sweatpants. He could have sworn he saw Walter lick his lips out of the corner of his eye.) Their relationship was still in the 'honeymoon' phase, and after that first hand job, apparently Walter had gotten enough courage to actually allow himself the normal urge to want to jump his bones after two days without much contact. 

Not that he could _blame_ him, Dan was having a hard time himself not turning around and jumping him too, but at the same time thinking about it made him cringe. He hadn't been able to jack off for two days, and had to fight back any feeling of arousal or he'd be really uncomfortable. The infection had taken a nasty turn for the worse by also making his cock painfully sensitive to touch, any touch at all, so getting a hard on in clothes was really fucking uncomfortable. He hadn't even been able to piss without choking back tears from the burning sensation, so fuck trying to masturbate. So he was currently suffering from blue balls, but he couldn't satisfy it. Or Walter's, either; not until he was sure he wouldn't spread it.

Finally dressed, he turned. And then wished he hadn't, because Walter was looking really nervous, but also like he wanted to eat him alive. 

"So, what do you want for breakfast? Or, well, lunch in your case." Dan said nervously, because he was pretty sure the answer was 'you'.

The question snapped Walter out of his glazed state and his face went red. He made one of those little non-words, usually indicative of deep thought- _yeah, deep thoughts alright_ -"Nnng-Sandwich. Would be fine. Grilled cheese?"

"Sure, buddy." And had to swallow his tongue to keep himself for adding _'anything for you'_ on the end of that. He gave himself a mental slap trying to silence his libido, which was being decidedly unhelpful and spouting lines like a goddamn cheesy porn star.

They made their way down to the kitchen without any further mishap or too much sexual tension. Walter folded himself into his customary chair, having learned a while ago that making anything other than instant food resulted in him burning things. For both their safety he was restricted to heating up frozen meals and chopping vegetables, although he was slowly learning from watching Dan. He wasn't a candlelight-dinner kind of guy and thought elaborate romantic gestures were ridiculous, but he did want to someday surprise Daniel with something nice, or at least edible. For now he pulled his weight by washing dishes after Dan cooked, and they were both okay with the arrangement. Dan hummed tunelessly to himself as he pulled out the ingredients and equipment, cheerfully domestic. 

Walter's previous arousal slackened at bit, diminished a little by his enjoyment of watching him putter around in the kitchen. Dan might have the owl as his chosen representation to the criminal element, but when he was engaged in more homey activities he reminded him more of the little black-capped chickadee, flitting from one part of the kitchen to the other. Nite Owl had his own appeal, with his courage and chivalry (not to mention skintight spandex) but in his opinion Daniel was the most endearing during the day making food or excitedly talking about his latest project in the basement. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he jumped when the phone rang, and Dan hurried to answer it.  
"Hello?" Dan said, a little anxious. He'd been waiting for the test results to come back, and he was still holding out for it to be just an infection, although knowing his luck it was very likely to be something that he'd contracted from Leslie.

"Hello, is this Daniel Dreiberg?"

"Uh, speaking."

"This is Leigh from Dr. Blood's office, we have your test results."

Dan flushed, and as nonchalantly as possible wandered out of the kitchen and into the living room, the cord trailing behind. He sneaked a glance back, and Walter seemed oblivious. He had started to help set up the electric griddle for making the grilled cheese sandwiches, and Dan prayed that he wouldn't start to try to make them, although he was reasonably sure that Walter knew better.

"Oh, ah, go ahead." Dan said, trying to keep his voice level.

"Well, they came back positive. You have gonorrhea."

Dan grimaced. So much for hoping.

"So, what do I do?" He said, feeling resigned.

"Well, you'll have to come back for a shot. We'll also send a prescription to your local pharmacy, and you'll be taking one pill a day for a week. After you get that it should clear up."

Dan blinked. Well...that was easier than he'd thought. Just one week? Hell, he could handle a week. "Well, that's good news."

"I have more good news. Your cheek swab came back clean, so nothing to worry about there. Of course, we still advise hand washing and wearing protection." Dan flushed, and hoped she wouldn't go into more detail. Thankfully she just continued on. "We need to schedule a time for your shot, and another time in a week to test and make sure that you're clean. Would you like to do that now?"

"Yeah, sure."

Thankfully he was able to get in tomorrow, so he could get this damn process started right away. Dan hung up and headed back into the kitchen, feeling dread start to creep in. He still had to tell his partner, and it was so goddamn cringe worthy and embarrassing. He sighed, and headed for the griddle, feeling that he should at least eat first, and Walter was always more manageable once he had some food in him.

Walter moved aside and let him start oiling up the griddle. "Hnn. What was the call about?"

Dan smiled at him. "I'll tell you in a minute. Grab the cheese and bread?"

He did so, and handed him the items, but he didn't go to sit down. He just twiddled his thumbs awkwardly while they waited for the griddle to heat up, and Dan started to get a secondary case of the fidgets just _watching_ him. He was pretty sure the guy hadn't overheard what he'd been talking about, so he had no idea what was bothering him now.

"You okay?" Dan said.

"Fine." He fidgeted a moment. "I have been...busy. For the last few days."

Dan nodded agreeably, and scraped the oil around. He blinked down at his partner as he-as subtly as he could, which wasn't much-shuffled close to him, close enough that he was practically touching.

"I am sorry that I haven't been able to spend more time with you."

Dan smiled down at him, feeling a warm glow of affection gather in his chest. It had only been two days, really no big deal, but he appreciated the apology anyways. Walter looked up with a slightly wary expression like he actually expected Dan to be angry, and he couldn't resist swooping down to kiss him. He put as much affection and reassurance into it as he could, and made an appreciative noise as Walter responded eagerly, pressing close to him. Dan automatically wrapped his arms around him and his partner made a soft whine, now starting to use his tongue, and he really didn't notice he'd been backed up until his shoulder blades hit the side of the fridge. He flushed, realizing now that his partner had him pretty efficiently pinned, Walter's hands settling over his hips and gripping him there almost to the point of pain. The kisses were getting more demanding now, almost desperate, and Walter was making a low growling noise in his throat that he was pretty sure he didn't realize he was making.

Dan shivered, and practically melted under the assault. He was a massive perv so he had a list of kinks a mile long, but 'aggressively demanding' was pretty high on that list (right next to the 'being dominated' one) and god was this hot. Especially since it was coming from someone who had previously been so shy. He had a feeling that Walter would get all self-conscious when he snapped back to himself as soon as he pulled away for air, but he had to breathe sometime. Finally he pulled away, gasping from being kissed within an inch of his life, and just as he predicted Walter flushed and started to look a little nervous. Before he could go into a full-blown freak-out and pull away Dan kissed the corner of his mouth and kept going, pressing kisses and nips down his throat, as he slid down the side of the fridge to kneel in front of him. He kept a tight grip of his own on Walter, getting the message across of 'stay still' and he obliged, although he looked confused as to why Dan suddenly decided to kneel on the linoleum. He grinned up at him, and nuzzled the front of his jeans to give him an idea.

Walter's eyes bugged out of his skull, and he could bet he figured it out. "You don't...you don't _have_ to-"

"Mmm, no, I don't _have_ to." He cooed, still rubbing his face all over the material, and he felt his half-hard cock twitch. "But I _want_ to."

Dan looked up, grinning ear to ear. "That okay with you?"

Walter closed his gaping mouth and nodded, beet red. Dan winked at him, because he felt like being cheesy, and sent up a mental 'hallelujah' to whatever god was listening as he undid his partner's fly that at least his mouth was clean so he could do this. He also undid his own because he was _going_ to get a hard on during this, no ifs ands or buts, and didn't want his diseased dick to chafe on the inside of his pants. No distractions, and he wanted to enjoy this as much as he was able, because while he wasn't going to be able to come but he could still witness his partner let go and enjoy himself. He didn't do enough of that, in Dan's opinion.

He wasn't fully hard as Dan scooped him out of his jeans, but he was well on his way. Just wrapping a hand around him was enough to make him stand proud, and Dan grinned. His partner was so damned sensitive, just the lightest touch would make him squirm. One of these days, Dan wanted to get him during a time when he had a spare whole day and just touch him all over. He bet he could play with just his nipples for _hours_. Knowing how sensitive he was though, Dan kept his touches light for now, cautiously exploring. He'd been with guys a handful of times, but he'd only ever given head to Leslie's strap on, and having the real thing was a new, novel experience. He wanted Walter to last long enough for him to give him a good once-over before he came.

He slid the foreskin back gently, and he heard a soft hiss above him. He looked up, just to make sure that hiss was made from pleasure, not pain. Walter's face was still beet red, but he was looking less embarrassed and more like he wanted to eat Dan alive. He flushed, feeling a little shy under the intense gaze, but also really turned on and proud of himself. Just a few weeks ago trying to coax Walter into any level of intimacy was difficult, now _he_ was the one initiating it, and Dan was happy to see that all of his efforts were finally paying off. Besides, having Walter react to even the tiniest movements of his fingers like it's the best thing he's ever felt is one hell of an ego boost.

Dan wrapped a few fingers around the base of his cock to give himself a comfortable stopping point, just like Leslie had taught him. He'd gotten pretty good at fellating her strapon, and he'd never really had much of a gag reflex. Still, he wanted to make sure he didn't embarrass himself by chocking. He covered his teeth, and slowly worked his way down. He made his way to his fingers, and then past that, until his nose was touching wiry hair with the head was bumping against the roof of his mouth. He felt a sense of accomplishment that he hadn't gagged once, and was glad that Walter had stayed still the entire time, although he had a feeling it was more to keep himself from coming too soon than fear of accidentally chocking him. He breathed in slowly, and felt Walter's hand settle tentatively on his hair. Dan looked up again, and this time his eyes were glassy, and he was gnawing on his own bottom lip.

He cautiously started to suck and slowly move, and Walter made a small, quivering whine. Dan could feel his body shaking under his hands, and as he got a rhythm going the hips under his palms moved in tiny, erratic jerks, like he was trying his damndnest not to thrust into his mouth but couldn't keep his body still. Gradually, Dan let up on his death grip on Walters hips, until he slid his hands to rest lightly on his thighs, and when he did lose control and thrust into his mouth, he looked up at him and moaned encouragingly. To his credit, Walter didn't start jackhammering away like he'd half-feared, thrusting shallowly into his mouth and letting Dan adjust. Dan met him on every move, sliding down when he pushed in, and they soon had a nice rhythm going. As they went, Walter's grip on his hair tightened and he started to speed up, and the tugs on his scalp where just the right side of painful. 

By now, Walter wasn't the only one making noises, and Dan was finding it really difficult not to reach down and give himself a measure of relief. He knew he shouldn't, that it would be like scratching poison ivy, but damn it was hard to resist, especially now that Walter was really getting into it. He wasn't going as hard as Dan was sure he could, but he could feel the muscles in his thighs trembling with the strain of holding back, and Dan flushed at the thought that the shallow, quick thrusts he could feel now where a lighter version of what he really wanted to do and what he _really_ was capable of. He whimpered, and promised to himself that as soon as he was clean, he was gonna lie back and let Walter go as hard and deep as he-as they _both_ -wanted.

All too soon, though, he was coming, and Dan got his first taste of cum. It was as bitter as he expected, and their was a lot of it, and he probably would have gagged or spit it out, but he came towards the back of his mouth and he didn't have to actually taste much of it before swallowing. Walter shook and whined as Dan swallowed, his hips still twitching erratically and the ab muscles jumping, and Dan smoothed a hand over them soothingly, helping him come down. Eventually he started to pull away, probably getting too sensitive, and Dan let him go. He looked up at Walter, scanning his face for any signs of a freak-out, but apparently he was too out of it for his usual puritanism to kick in. Instead of getting all self-conscience, Walter just leaned his head on the side of the fridge looking like he'd lost half his IQ points, and smiled lopsidedly down at him while petting the side of his face clumsily. Dan caught his hand and kissed the palm, and got to witness his partner look at him with an unapologetically besotted expression on his face that normally he would be too restrained to show. For a few precious seconds they got to share a tender moment worthy of a hallmark card.

Until the smoke alarm went off.

Then, of course it was a mad scramble to turn off the griddle, open the window to let out the smoke, realize that you are opening a window to the wider world with your junk _still hanging out_ , and stuff everything back in and hope that your doddering eighty-year-old neighbor doesn't see and have a heart attack. Walter had managed to turn off the alarm by smashing the button with the end of a broomstick, so at least Dan could stop having a heart attack of his own and calm down. Thankfully the oil had just started to smoke, not burst into flames, so all he had to do was scrape the black stuff off and rinse it down so he could put fresh oil on. It was a pretty good distraction, so it wasn't until after lunch, after dinner, and _after patrol_ that he smacked a hand to his forehead and remembered that he hadn't told Walter.

_I'll do it tomorrow,_ he groaned, rolling over in bed to sink into dreams.

_Tomorrow._


	4. Chapter 4

The shot wasn't so bad, and neither was the big, horsy pill he had to swallow. It was the _waiting_ that really got to him, even if it was just a week and a lot less than what he'd been expecting. He was really fucking nervous, because he had no clue how to break the news to his partner. He'd dodged the bullet Wednesday, but he hated the grey pall of guilt that followed him around for not telling him. Walter's trust was a skittish, tenuous thing, and keeping secrets from him was probably the fastest way to destroy all the hard work he'd put into gaining it.

There was also the fact that he hadn't told Leslie that he wasn't going to be engaging in any more of their 'games'. She'd departed for Paris about a week before he'd started up his relationship with Rorschach, laying low to shake a competitor off her tail. She hadn't been completely unavailable, he knew her and her habits and could probably find her if he looked, but he'd been too damn preoccupied to do so. Now might be the time though. She was an unapologetic slut, but she had rules that she went by. 'Safe and Sane' was her motto, and while that usually meant safe words and cuffs that could be unlocked by the wearer in an emergency, it also meant birth control, blood tests, and condoms. Always. No ifs, ands, or buts. She was careful, but she'd been the only person he could have gotten the infection from, so he'd have to tell her. She was _not_ going to be pleased. Oh, she might be a bit sad to see him go, but they'd always had just an informal fuck buddy relationship. No, what she was really going to be mad about is getting infected in the first place. She had a very 'my body is my temple' thing, and she thought very highly of her admittedly gorgeous physique.

He sighed, and decided to go with telling her first. It wouldn't be fun, but he had significantly less trepidation about telling her than he did about telling his partner. Tonight, he'd just concern himself with getting patrol done. Today was Friday, meaning tonight Walter could stay over, hopefully in bed with him not the guest room, rather than leaving in the morning. He was getting a lot more comfortable around Dan, so he had high hopes that he could convince Walter to stay. And he would be safe, the doctor had reassured him that it couldn't be spread by just touching or anything like that. And, well, if either of them was interested in something a little more racy than cuddling well...they could be careful. And use hand sanitizer.

Dan threw up a silent halleluiah to whoever was listening that the pain had finally left. It had still burned this morning, but a lot less, and the doc had said that would go away soon. He hoped so, because he was _done_ with whimpering like a little girl every time he took a piss. And he hoped the infection would resolve itself soon too, he wanted to engage in a little mutual lovin', not so one sided like the last two times. He could still try wacking off, but he wasn't about to risk Walter's health by letting him give him a helping hand or blowjob or more, even while Dan wore a condom. He'd heard too many horror stories about couples continuously passing it back in forth in college to want to risk it. And that reminded him: he should urge Walter to get checked out, just in case. God, this was going to be so awkward, for both him and Walter.

 _Speak of the devil..._ Dan looked up at the clock, and it was nearly 4. Walter would be here soon, and he had a call to make.

\---

Walter himself was still crouched over his own sewing machine, desperately trying to fill quota. He'd taken on extra to earn a bonus. He'd already earned enough to pay rent, but a little extra for a meal for two at a favorite local deli was an opportunity he didn't want to miss. He knew Daniel wished he would quit this thankless job, but was too respectful of his need for autonomy to tell him to do so, and he was thankful for it. Still, sometimes he wished he had a more... _dignified_ job. Something that wasn't so rife with ironic humor, at least. A homosexual man sewing lacy women's negligee was probably proof that god (should he exist; Walters faith was a thin, tattered thing) had a rather odd sense of humor.

He finished by the skin of his teeth, and walked up to his boss. He looked him over in a vaguely belligerent way, then gruffly handed over the bonus and he was clear to escape. Ha started walking, a grand total of fifteen dollars in his pocket, which was enough for a place with real plates and cloth napkins instead of disposable ones. Nothing too lux, but neither of them was too fond of the stuffy atmosphere of high society restaurants anyway. It always amused him that despite coming from wealth, Dan didn't act like it, and anything that resembled the extravagant life of the very rich was an anathema to him. He was more interested in quiet donations to local wildlife sanctuaries than ridiculously over the top charity auctions. It was one of the reasons why he...

He stopped.

Why he...

Walter coughed, and kept walking, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep over his neck even though there was no one around and nobody could read his thoughts anyway.

He continued on, and was soon standing on Daniel's doorstep. It still felt surreal, coming in the front door instead of making his way through the tunnel. Even more strange to have a key too, and sometimes he worried about security, but Daniel insisted. At least he'd listened to him about getting extra locks and on the door and better windows. He still worried in a vague, almost subconscious way, his anxiety about being in such a relationship rearing it's head in strange ways. He knew that his fears were unfounded, but he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. He tried his best to tamp down on the worst of the anxiety, though. He didn't want to be insecure, or bother Daniel with his insecurities.

He managed to undo the three locks and the deadbolt, and made his way in. Silent as he always was, and distracted with a phone call, Daniel didn't even notice him come in until he was standing right behind him.

"Well, I guess...if you insist, then. Sure, tonight. Sure. Sure. Yeah, okay-GAH!"

Daniel nearly dropped it, just barely managing to put the phone back onto the receiver, clattering loudly.

"Oh my god, I need to put a bell on you or something." Dan gasped.

Walter gave him an amused smile. "Need to work on your awareness."

Dan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah."

"Who was that?"

"That-oh, old friend of mine. I just, um, have to meet them later." Dan said, practically stumbling over his words. He must still be jittery from the earlier scare, so Walter reached up and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. It usually worked, and Daniel did seem to calm a little this time. Still, there was some nervous tension in that frame and he was getting secondhand anxiety from it. To distract them both, Walter spoke.

"Would like to take you to a new deli I found."

Dan's eyes brightened. "Oh! Sure buddy, I'd love that."

"When are you meeting them?"

"Meeting-? Oh, um." He flushed. "We don't have any set plans."

Walter frowned. Something was...off. Daniel was still nervous, and unable to calm down. He was starting to think it wasn't just the shock he'd gotten earlier. 

"Is something wrong?"

"What? No, nothing's wrong."

Looking down, to the left...he's lying. Walter blinked, feeling confused and uneasy. Why would he lie?

"Do you want to head out to the deli for lunch?" Dan said, distracting him from the rising tide of unease.

"...Yes." He paused. "It's not far. We can walk there."

"Okay, I'll get my coat."


	5. Chapter 5

The unease never left, and as the afternoon dragged on, it only increased.

Walter took them to a deli he'd been eyeing for weeks. It was the type he like, old-fashioned and unpretentious. It was a renovated building with parts from a much earlier age than his beloved forties. Some of it was left over from the Victorian age, a time when people were much more segregated. Men sat out at the front, while women and their children had their own, curtained booths. The curtains were gone, but the booths still had the hidden, protected air around it, which he liked. It would be very difficult for anyone to sneak up on them, and the height of the walls around each booth made conversations very difficult to overhear.

Daniel was rather affectionate, and sometimes would forget that they were in public, so it would be nice to have a sheltered location if he slipped up and tried to hold his hand or said something sappy. It frustrated him that Daniel forgot so easily, and he felt like a heel whenever he had to dodge a well-intentioned pat on the knee. He would get this confused and hurt look on his face, before he remembered that they weren't in the sheltered location of his house. Then he would look embarrassed and apologetic, which was nearly as bad. Here though, those gestures would go unnoticed and...well, it might be nice to let Daniel put an arm around his shoulders without fear of the people around him making assumptions, or worse.

They sat, and ordered. Walter tried to make small talk, but Daniel was fidgety and distracted, and he was growing increasingly worried. Daniel kept opening his mouth as if he was about to say something, but never worked up the courage to. His old fears about rejection and abandonment-always lingering just under the skin-started to rear their ugly heads again. _Is he going to say it, is he going to leave ishegoingto-_

"You two ready to order?"

They both jumped, and Walter admonished himself for getting distracted and not being alert enough to notice her coming.

"Roast beef sandwich." He grunted on automatic. He hadn't even looked at the menu, he wasn't even sure they had it. It was just one of his favorites, blurted out without thought. Thankfully the waitress didn't even bat an eye, jotting it down.

"Chips or fries?"

"Fries."

She turned her gaze on Dan. "And for you honey?"

"Uh," Dan blinked, caught off guard like he was. "The...special?"

"Sure hon." She scribbled. "What sides you want?"

"Er...fries?"

Walter blinked. Daniel didn't even _like_ fries. Was he so distracted that he was just getting whatever he'd heard Walter get? This didn't bode well...

ishegoingtoishegoingtoishegoingto-

"Alright, fries...any drinks?"

"Coffee." Dan blurted, then hid behind the dessert menu.

"...Coke." Walter murmured, on automatic again.

She breezed out, blissfully oblivious to any tension between them, and they got to sit in awkward, mouth-drying silence. Again, they tried some stilted conversation, this time with Dan initiating it, but no dice. Walter felt like his throat and mouth were glued with fear, so he was only able to make some monosyllabic grunts and a few words. Their order came back, and 'the special' turned out to be a pulled pork sandwich, which Dan poked at it morosely. He'd been raised in a Jewish household, but he wasn't all that strict about following the rules. Still, he'd never been a big fan of pork, and would only eat pork products under duress. He forced himself to eat it anyway, trying not to grimace at the greasiness, and did the same to the fries. Walter, as usual, inhaled his food. He _never_ turned down food, and ate every meal like he wasn't sure when he'd get to eat again.

Which he knew was actually half true. He'd never flat out said it, but before they'd met and Walter had gotten to raid his fridge and cupboards, he really _hadn't_ been sure when he'd get his next meal. It wasn't until he'd gotten to know Walter-the other half of his partner, the final piece to the puzzle-had he finally figured out why the guy kept stealing his goddamn food. It had been an annoyance that he'd never really addressed because he could always get more and he never really liked leftovers anyway, but ever since he'd learned just how little the guy made at his job, he'd started stocking up. Not just on beans and takeout, but fresh fruit and vegetables and canned soup. He worried about him getting sick from a lack of proper nutrition, and this way he didn't have to try to nag him to eat better. Nagging never worked. Subtly nudging him to eat better by getting a bag of plums on sale _did_. Walter knew what he meant by it anyway, and he ate the fruits too, so it worked.

A touch on his knee broke his thoughts, and he jerked away. He looked down at Walter, who blinked and then withdrew his hand, going back to his sandwich with a slightly embarrassed look on his face. Dan mentally sighed, realizing that his partner was just trying to engage in some affectionate touching, probably screwing up a _lot_ of courage to do this in such a public space (no matter how private the booths made it seem). And he'd jerked away like _Walter_ was the infected one, not the other way around.

Dan gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, feeling the tension roiling under his hand. God, he was being such an _ass_ to Walter. He couldn't help it. He'd been anxious by the end of the phone call, because Leslie had insisted on seeing him in person, rather than just listening to him over the phone, where'd he'd be safe from her potential wrath. So now he had to find a way of seeing her that wouldn't upset Walter, which would involve telling him about the infection first, rather than what he planned. Which would upset him, and then telling him he had to visit Leslie would upset him even _more_...god, this was just so fucked up. And Walter was picking up on his anxiety, probably panicking if he was desperate enough to reach out for affection in such a public space. He'd tried to screw up the courage to just tell him already, but the thought of the waitress overhearing this was mortifying.

The bill finally came, and Walter was the one who paid. He'd been late today, coming in still dressed in his work clothes, and Dan felt even more guilty that the guy had probably worked overtime to afford it rather than taking his customary short nap after work. The guy didn't get enough sleep as it was, working overtime and sacrificing what little he did get to pay for a meal for them both made him feel like shit when he was keeping a secret like this from him. Unintentionally or not.

Dan was glad to get out; he was starting to suffocate from all the awkwardness in there. He wasn't looking forward to going home to face the music, but at least they could get this over with. They got through the front door, and Dan started their 'ritual', a mid-afternoon movie and cuddling on the couch. This was the method Dan had employed at the very beginning of their relationship to gradually ease Walter into being comfortable with physical contact. They'd started with no contact, at opposite ends, then graduated to handholding, then an arm around the shoulder, and so on. Walter had slowly, haltingly, explained that he was very uncomfortable with the type of physical affection where he felt enclosed, unable to escape, which was why he was okay with a hand on the shoulder but not with a hug.  
He hadn't explained _why_ he was uncomfortable with it, but he wasn't going to push, just say that if he ever felt like telling him he could. Dan just did his best to let him feel comfortable by finding ways of working around it. For instance, he figured out that Walter was okay with Dan holding him, so long as he wasn't looming over him and he wasn't holding on too tightly. Lying down, with Walter laying partly on top of him, and with his arms loosely looped around him, was an acceptable compromise.

He put in a video, this time 'double indemnity' (Walter loved detective films). Then, he settled onto the couch, propping up pillows so that he was partly sitting up, his legs down the couch but at an angle. It left _just_ enough room for someone as skinny as Walter to slide in, and when he did, Dan's chest was at just the right height to be used as a comfortable headrest. As soon as he was settled, Walter squirmed his way in, and Dan mentally sighed when he could feel how tense he was. He just held him for a while, gently brushing a hand up and down his arm or running fingers through his hair. Gradually, the physical contact and the familiarity of routine was enough to get rid of most of that tension.

It was towards the end of the film that _Walter_ was the one to make a move. Dan was surprised to feel him nuzzle up towards his neck and start dropping kisses on his clavicle. He was still humming with tension, and wouldn't meet his eyes when Dan looked down at him.

"Walter, what-" Walter kissed him before he could finish, and it felt almost...desperate? They'd just had sex yesterday, and he was already initiating it; he cant have gotten that hard up for sex in just 24 hours. Dan was always down for some action, but his partner was more avoidant. He was still confused, but if his partner wanted this he wasn't going to say no. He happily returned the kiss and it quickly got more intense, leaving them both gasping, and eventually they had to stop for a breather.

"Love you."

It was gasped out, quickly, like he was forcing it out before he lost his nerve. Dan blinked rapidly, surprised. Neither of them had said it yet-it'd just been a month, Jesus-and he hadn't expected Walter to be the one to say it first. He could see from the way his jaw was clenched that he was doing everything not to give in to embarrassment. Dan opened and closed his mouth, trying to say _something_ but he was too pole-axed to get out anything coherent.

"I...I, uh-" And it seemed Walter wasn't going to give him the chance to say anything coherent. He kissed him again before he could manage to pull himself together, and Dan was feeling increasingly confused and, well, concerned. He wrapped his arms around him-loosely, gently-and did his best to get him to slow down, with limited success. Walter kissed him like he needed to breathe from his mouth, and slid his hands under his shirt, the coldness of them a shock against his skin. He jumped, and Walter gave him a concerned, almost _frightened_ look, like he thought he'd done something wrong. Dan rubbed his hands up his sides, doing his best to reassure, but it didn't seem to help. Walter was still a nervous wreck, no matter how eager the mouth on his felt. He wanted to talk to the guy and figure out what was wrong, but it was difficult to do that with a mouth on his, and shoving him off would probably upset him.

Whatever it was that was bothering him, it certainly wasn't making him go soft. He could feel the hard shaft digging into him just above his own groin, rubbing against him in unconscious little circles. He was starting to get all hot and bothered too, despite his earlier concerns. He just couldn't resist reaching down to cup his ass, something he'd been wanting to do for the longest time. Walter made a stuttering little whine and ground harder while Dan kneaded him, and after a moment he backed off, probably to keep himself from exploding all over him. He started nosing his way south then, and everything below the belt clenched in anticipation of his partner wrapping his lips around-

And then he remembered that he was supposed to stop him, of course, and he panicked. "W-wait!"

Walter froze, staring at him with an alarmed expression.

"I just-" His mind scrambled for something, anything-

"I, um, want to try something?" He flushed.

"...What do you have in mind?" Walter said, cautiously.

"I, uh..." _Think, think!_ "I want to...to watch you?"

Now Walter looked downright confused. "Doing what?"

Dan nearly smacked a hand to his forehead. He sometimes forgot that his partner was such an extreme virgin that he actually had to explain-in detail-things like this.

"I...want towatchyoujackoff." He said, the last of it coming out in a rush that was probably pretty incomprehensible. He _really_ hoped he didn't have to repeat himself, he didn't know if he'd survive it.

At first, it didn't seem like he understood, his brow furrowed as he attempted to translate Dan's stuttered admission. He could see the moment comprehension hit him though, by the way he flushed and swallowed nervously. Dan gave him a pleading look to forestall any backpedaling on Walter's part. Just for added insurance, he added a gentle 'Please?' and that was more than enough to get him to agree.

"...Okay." He said quietly, still looking a little unsure but at least he was willing. He rocked back so the he was kneeling on the couch, and his hands hovered over his pants, still too self conscience to even start.

Dan gave him his best reassuring smile. "Why don't you come here?"

He patted his shoulder where Walter had previously laid his head, and he crawled back in, Dan squirming over more. Dan was almost off the couch now, but now his partner had just enough room to work in. He hoped that by lying down next to him Walter would feel less exposed, and just for encouragement, he squirmed out of his pants, pulling them down enough to bare his own cock. Walter flushed and stared for a moment, then pushed his own pants down. He was still plenty hard, despite his embarrassment, and Dan made an appreciative noise.

"Go ahead." Dan cooed, running a hand up and down his arm. "I want to see what you like."

He was still red in the face, but it seemed like the encouragement was working. He wrapped a hand around his own cock and another around his balls, and started to stroke. Dan watched him attentively; he may have come up with that request last minute, but he _had_ wanted to watch him do this for the longest time, no matter how sophomoric it was to watch each other mutually jack off. He wanted to learn what Walter actually liked, since the guy was too shy to straight-out tell him.

He was...kinda rough, which wasn't surprising, really. He'd learned about the guy's self-loathing and conflicted feelings about masturbation practically day one of their relationship.

"Do you...like it that rough?" He said, not really meaning to say it out loud. Dan winced internally.

Walter stopped, looking embarrassed. "It feels..." He struggled to find the words. "Doesn't hurt, not...much but it makes the pleasure..." He trailed off.

"Sharper?" Dan supplied, smiling a little.

Walter looked up at him, surprised. "Yes."

Dan gave him a sheepish grin. "You're not the only one that likes a little bit of an edge to things."

Walter tilted his head, curious now instead of embarrassed. "What do _you_ like?"

Dan flushed, a little embarrassed but pleased at the same time that he was actively participating. "I, um...like my hair pulled. Not, you know, yanked off my head but...oh, and bites, on here."

He tapped a section of skin where his neck flowed down to join his shoulder, and Walter looked at him contemplatively for a moment, before moving in. Dan held his breath as he came close, until he could feel his breath and his lips just barely brushing his skin. Walter cautiously tried his teeth on him, tentatively at first but biting down with more confidence when Dan made some breathless noise of encouragement. He pulled back, and looked him over. The mark stood out like a brand and Daniel's face was flushed, his hand wrapped around his erection, which was flushed as well and leaking pre-cum. It was...a very appealing picture, one that he filed away for a later date.


	6. Chapter 6

Walter had always been a fast learner, and was quick to discover a that Dan liked bites on most any part of his body that was thick flesh and not directly over bone, like his chest and shoulders and he also liked light little nips on his earlobe and nipples. What he liked most, though, was a sharp tug on his hair. His hips would jerk like they were directly connected, and he would make a high-pitched, gasping sort of noise. Soon, his partner was practically putting on a show, beautifully unselfconscious, stroking himself and rolling his hips. Walter had to touch himself-really, it was just impossible not to-but he did his best to keep the touches light and to focus on Daniel. He wanted to see him come, both because it was really only fair after he got off twice without reciprocating, and well…because he just wanted to watch.

He whined, and swiped the pad of his thumb over the slick head, arching his hips as he came all over his lower torso. Walter stared, his eyes wide as he watched.

Dan grinned lopsidedly at him. “Your turn?”

Walter made a full-body shiver, and to Daniel’s surprise-and delight-clambered on top of him, straddling his hips as he jerked himself off while Dan palmed his hips and made pleased, encouraging noises. Apparently, jacking off in front of him had gotten his partner hot and bothered enough to throw modesty to the wind and put on a little show of his own. It was a two-second show, but a good one nonetheless, and he really wished he could have filmed it so he could replay that purely hedonistic moan the redhead made when he came.

Dan helped him to gently collapse on his side after his legs gave out, and once he’d recovered, cleaned them both up with a rag snatched from the kitchen. As soon as he settled back in Walter hugged him fiercely, unwilling to let him go, even after nearly an hour of determined cuddling and a gentle explanation that he needed to leave.

Walter swallowed. “We could…eat first. You must be hungry.”

Dan gave him a confused look at the transparently obvious attempt at stalling. Okay, something was going on, and damned if he didn’t want to know what it was but he _had_ to leave if he was gonna talk to Leslie before her night shift started, and he really wanted to actually have a conversation without the awkwardness of her being in costume and having gimps prowling the halls and harassing him. He sighed, and reluctantly peeled Walter off him.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Dan said gently, “An hour, tops. Okay? Why don’t you go ahead and take a shower and get ready for patrol tonight.”

Walter stared at him for a moment, his face unreadable, then finally nodded and headed up to the upstairs bathroom. Dan sighed, and headed to the basement and threw on his costume, because while Dan knew that the Twilight Lady was the picture of discreet, her ‘employees’ weren’t quite so guaranteed, and Drieburgh was just rich enough to be blackmailed with potential scandal. Nite Owl was a bit more difficult to try to get at because, well, it was a cliché as it could get for the hero to be drawn in by a villainesses’ wiles, so it really wasn’t much of a scandal and was even par for the course.

He closed the locker and Nite Owl trotted off, choosing to walk rather than take Archie. It was difficult as hell to land in the part of town Leslie had her shop in, a decided lack of big, uncluttered roof space to land on, but he wished he could have flown anyway. He did his best to avoid the roaming gangs because he didn’t have the time of day to deal with their heckling. He even had to run from one too-eager group of Katie heads, swallowing his pride and trying _not_ to listen to their jeers. Soon though, he was safe-sort of-in Leslie’s vice den.

A blond lounged on what was the equivalent of a receptionists desk here. “Whatcha’ looking for stranga?”

“I have an appointment with the Twilight Lady.” He paused, trying to remember the damn password. “Err…lemon drops?”

“She changed it.” He said. “When she got back. Security risks.”

Nite Owl sighed. Great. Now he’d have to play twenty questions.

“Is it…peppermint sticks?”

“Nope.”

“What about butterscotch?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Err…toffee?”

“Nahh.”

“Oh, come on.” Nite Owl said, annoyed. “We could be here all day! I told her I was coming-”

“Not yet sugar, we’ve just started the foreplay.”

He whipped around and of course it was Leslie standing there, amused. She was accompanied by her usual gimps, but this time she’d added four actual bruisers to her entourage, guys where their muscles and scars were definitely not for show.

“That was a terrible pun.” Whined the ‘receptionist’ behind him.

“Hush, Barry. I didn’t hire you for your critique.” She huffed.

‘Barry’ muttered under his breath as she Walked Nite Owl back, and settled them into a sumptuous room, some tea already waiting for them. Her hired muscle was reluctant to leave, but they finally settled on guarding the entryway on the outside.

“It’s good to see you got some real security.” He said. “I was worried about you.”

Leslie sighed, settling into a chair. “It’s nice that you aren’t the type of person to say ‘I told you so’.”

He smiled, then eyed the tea. “I don’t really have the time to socialize Leslie, sorry.”

She huffed. “Oh, come _on_. I haven’t seen you for weeks. At least sit and take that ridiculous cowl off.”

He grumbled ‘it’s not _silly_ ’ but did it anyway. He had at least a half hour, he could spare some time.

“I, err, kinda have some news…”

“Mmm, bad news?”

“Er, some of it.”

“Well, shoot honey. Let’s start with the good shit first.”

“I, uh, found someone. We started dating.”

“Good for you.” She cooed. “I know you’re the kinda guy that likes to shower people with affection. Rorschach’s a lucky guy.”

“Yeah, we-wait, _what?_ How did you-” He stalled, realizing she was grinning, and narrowed his eyes.

“I didn’t.” She said, giggling. “I was _joking_. Jesus Dan, are you for real? You actually snagged the terror of the underworld?”

“I, I uh…” He chewed on air, feeling his face heat. “Oh god. I really didn’t mean to say that.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me.” She leaned forward conspiratorially, eyes glittering. “C’mon, details. How the hell did you get Rorschach, right-wing, homophobic, give-Scarface-nightmares kinda guy…to date you?”

“Look, I know I’ve told you about some of his views but he’s not…you know, a zealot about them. As for the whole homophobic thing, it turns out he’s one of the…self-loathing gays.” Dan explained a little sadly on the last one.

“I always thought he did protesteth overmuch, really.” She said, sagely. “As cliché as it is.”

“And for the whole, tough-guy thing…well, he really is tough. But…” And then he had to tell her about the whole near-death experience, and of course she cooed over the strangled confession. It was…nice, actually, to talk to someone about this. It’s not as if he could take the guy to meet his family. He’d forgotten how good it felt to have a normal goddamn conversation about relationships, and it was even a little helpful. Leslie had seen everything in the bedroom, and she suggested several ways to help with some of Rorschach’s hangups about intimacy.

“Er…speaking of intimacy,” Dan started.

“Is this the bad news?”

“Well, yeah.” He sighed. “I, uh, caught something. And since me and Rorschach haven’t…you know. And you were the last person I slept with…”

Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by ‘caught something’?”

\---

Walter wasn’t the kind to twiddle his thumbs.

He had a low-level flight or fight response simmering in his gut, and usually when he had that he’d either run around looking for something to punch. It usually happened when he had a case that he was itching to solve, but this was very different. For instance, he never had this much stomach-churning anxiety, the feeling that something bad was just hovering over his head, a sword on a thread, the other shoe about to drop.

Ever since entering into a relationship with Daniel, he’d had the strong feeling of it being just too good to be true. He’d been terrified that his confession of homosexual feelings towards the man would have terrible consequences, but wonders of wonders, it had turned out the man was not only bisexual but returned his interest. He had a face ugly enough to stop a clock, but Daniel hadn’t minded it. He was poor, and had nothing to offer but paltry tokens of his affections like a cheap meal in a dinner, but Daniel hadn’t cared. Walter had opposing views and ideology, and they argued the points with vehemence but shook hands after. He was sexually repressed and had deep-set issues with intimacy, but he was perfectly willing to be as patient as Walter needed him to be.

Every instinct told him that such a massive imbalance had to have consequences. He done his best to balance the scales with lavishing as much attention and gifts and affection as he could, all the while have the nagging feeling that it might not be enough, would _never_ be enough. Usually, those thoughts were background murmurs but after the last few hours they were loud enough that they shouted in his head. Daniel had been acting strange all evening, and it had goaded those thoughts to the forefront of his brain, the fear that what Daniel was trying to say in the diner had been that he wanted to end the relationship. He’d even resorted to prostituting himself, offering up pleasure in the hopes that it might stave it off, feeling dirty even as it felt good. He’d also wanted assurance that Daniel still wanted him, to feel affection in the special, careful handling. Daniel was always a gentle, attentive lover, and the way he made love to him truly _did_ feel like lovemaking, not like they were just rutting like animals, like a whore and a John.

Still, even after the sex and being held afterwards, the anxiety had subsided only a fraction, and the longer he was gone the stronger it got. He was left pacing like a caged animal through Daniel’s house. It got so bad that he went downstairs, into the nest. As nice as his house was, he had a much stronger connection to the nest, having spent more time in it than the rest of the place. It was a secret, protected place, every nook and cranny familiar to him, smelling strongly of engine grease and metal. Here too, Daniel’s scent was stronger. He spent the majority of his time here, sweated and bled in it. Like a nervous dog dealing with separation anxiety by burrowing into its owner’s clothes hamper, Walter found himself a little calmer when surrounded with Daniel’s scent.

He felt a little calmer down here, but he still was anxious, so he put on his uniform for comfort. Wearing Rorschach reminded him that he was a vigilante that made grown men piss their pants in terror, so it was difficult to feel too scared with his shifting face on. He tugged on his sleeves and smoothed his lapels lovingly, feeling his confidence increase just by wearing his uniform. He still couldn’t get rid of the last, lingering anxiety though, and paced to give his nervous energy an outlet. Being the nosey person he was, he poked around Daniel’s drawing board (he eyed the exoskeleton plans with distaste) and admired a beautifully made owl shaped out of tiny clock gears (Daniel modestly said he wasn’t an artist, Walter secretly disagreed). Eventually he wandered over the locker where Daniel kept his various Nite Owl costumes, just for the amusement of looking at the wetsuit that was a ridiculous shade of green that he’d never used. He opened the locker, and blinked. The main suit that he wore was gone. He pawed through the locker, just to be sure. He checked and re-checked. By the end of the fourth check, it was still gone.

He stared at the locker, a strong sense of wrongness creeping up his spine. If it wasn’t here then…he was probably wearing it. Why would Daniel have worn his costume to see a ‘friend’? Why wouldn’t he tell him that? _Why_? A rational, logical, part of his brain wanted to insist that his was wearing it for perfectly rational, logical, reasons. The irrational part of him was not at _all_ convinced.

He stared at the locker for a while, before he practically _ran_ out the exit, cold fear feeling heavy in his belly even as it gave him speed.

\---

Nite Owl finally said his fond farewells, promising to visit sometime in the future but no set plans. It wouldn’t be anytime soon, at least. He had a feeling Walter wouldn’t be okay with him visiting his ex, at least not this early on in the relationship. It would be a while before the guy got over his fear that Dan would get fed up with him and leave him for someone better, because while he trusted and loved Dan he had this irrational belief that he wasn’t really deserving of being in a relationship with him. He’d done his best to reassure him otherwise, but some things just took time.

He finally made it into the nest, and got back into his civvies, and went upstairs.

“Honey, I’m home!” He yelled, grinning. Walter detested pet names, and would make a disgusted noise every time Dan teased him with a ‘sweetie’ or ‘dearest’.

A moment went by and no huff of annoyance. He frowned, and searched through the house and nest. Nothing. Eventually after a while of fruitless searching, he stood at the kitchen counter twiddling his thumbs. He might have stepped out to get something, although he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Ten minutes ticked by in mouth-drying silence before the basement door opened. Rorschach stepped through, and while he was kind of surprised he was in full costume this early at least he was here. Well, it was now or never. He’d put off telling him about this long enough, although he wished the guy wasn’t in costume so he could gauge the reaction on his real face. Really hard to confess that he had an std to a faceless, shifting mask.

“Oh, hey buddy! Where’d you run off too?” He started, nervously.

“Could say the same about you.” He growled, stiffly.

Dan blinked. _Okaaaaay…_ “I, uh, visited a friend? Like I said earlier? I, uh, had something to tell them-”

“Yes. You said. Didn’t mention the name though.” He stalked over to him. “ _Funnily enough._ ”

That last bit was hissed out, like he was gritting his teeth. And he had his hands balled up into fists, and his shoulders were hunched, and, wait, that was all the classic body language of a very pissed off-

_Oh crap._

If there was any time to say a well-worded, calming statement to defuse the situation, that time was now.

“Umm, I uh-”

Then again, he never had a gift with words.

“ _Why_?” Rorschach snarled, easily overpowering his weak stammering. “Why do this to me? Why not _say_ something? Lead me on. If you didn’t want me then say you want me to leave instead of doing this-”

_Oh shit, he thinks I’m cheating on him_ -“W-woah! That’s not-”

Rorschach ignores him, and keeps going. “Know I’m not-that I’m not-nng, not the best choice. Have…intimacy issues, poor, _ugly_ , but you said that those didn’t matter!”

“They don’t!”

“Seem to matter enough that you didn’t want me to…to touch you, or return the favor for…” He stumbled briefly over the sex and dan could guess he was talking about trying to give him a blowjob, and his stomach sank even further. “Nng, you spent _weeks_ convincing me. But why, why do all that and then leave me to have sex with a whore!”

“I didn’t have sex with her! I fucking swear!”

“LIAR!” He roared, and his fists came up, like he was going to actually punch him right in the face, and he shot his arms up to grab them, more frantic and terrified than he’d ever been. Not because he didn’t want to be punched-Rorschach could throw one hell of a right hook, but he’d survive-but he was desperate to explain. He didn’t want to lose him.

By pure, dumb luck he actually caught them, and Rorschach stilled. His breath was coming face, the wind rasping noisily in and out of his mouth and nose, like the inhalations of a bull getting ready to charge. He could guess that his stillness wasn’t calmness in anyway, not with the way he was shaking. This was likely the calm before the storm of earth-shattering rage. And, from how damp his cheeks were, it wasn’t just rage but grief too, and his heart sank right to the bottom of his boots.

“Rorschach,” He said, very unsteadily. “You’ve known me for years. Been by my side through a lot of shit. From what you know of me, is this something you really _know_ I would do?”

He drew in a shaky breath. “Or is this what you _think_ I would do?”

He paused, suddenly still, and Dan hoped against hope that the guy would understand. They’d been partners long before being lovers, through thick and thin. They were to the point that they knew each other so well that Dan could pick him out of a crowd in the gloom just by the way he walked, and his partner could do the same to him. And it went beyond just knowing their physical tics, they knew each other’s likes, dislikes, hopes and dreams, as cliché as it sounded. They _knew_ each other. And what Rorschach knew of him didn’t, in any way, shape, or form, run consistent with him being a fucking bastard that would throw all that away. He also knew that the guy didn’t think too highly of himself, and his self-loathing was probably responsible for twisting all this into a scenario that went completely against Dan’s nature. He just hoped that his self-loathing wouldn’t win out.

“…No.” He growled, and withdrew to sit on the kitchen chair, head in his hands.

Dan cautiously unglued himself from the counter, eyeing him warily in case of an outburst. “I…uh, really did have to go tell her some news.”

“What,” He sighed, rubbing his face and crinkling the mask, almost pulling it the rest of the way off “ _News._ ”

“Well, for one that I wasn’t going to be seeing her anymore.” Dan crept closer. “You know because were together. She ah, insisted on seeing me in person though, and, well, it’s only fair. Uh, she says ‘hi’ by the way.”

Rorschach just stared at him.

“…Right.” He licked his lips cautiously. “And, I, err, have been acting weird because I had some…news I needed to tell you and trying to get up the courage to say it was…difficult.”

Rorschach kept staring, and Dan squirmed under the look. “I, uh, have an…I have…Ihaveghonoreeah.”

Rorschach frowned. “Come again?”

“I have a disease.” He coughed, wishing he could sink into the floor.

“What _kind_ of disease.” Growled his partner, sitting up straight.

“It’s, uh, a kind of, you know, std, and…”

“Spit it out already!” He snapped.

Dan flinched. “Ghonoreeah!”

Rorschach went still. “…What?”

Dan could _feel_ how red his face was. “Ghonoreeah. It’s an std.”

“I know what it is,” He growled, annoyed “What I want to know, is how. And how long have you known.”

“Err, well, it was from the Twilight Lady. I mean, we were careful, but apparently you can get it orally, which I didn’t know you could-” He stopped, realizing he was probably giving more detail than Rorschach ever wanted to know. “And, uh, it can stick around for a long time before showing symptoms. I uh, only started noticing it three days ago. I went to the doctor right away, and got tested. Uh, you should probably get tested too, just in case. I mean, I was careful, and I got my mouth tested it was clean but you can never be too sure-”

“You knew for _three days_?” Rorschach fumed, interrupting his stammering.

“…Yes?”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I was going too. I just…” He squirmed. “It was…just…god, it was just too embarrassing. And every time I got the courage up or tried I just kept chickening out.”

“Thought not telling me for that long was the better option?”

“No, I…well, not intentionally…”

“You. Are. An. _Idiot._ ”

Dan couldn’t help but agree, because, well, yeah. He was. He smiled tentatively, and very feebly tried to joke to diffuse the whole thing. “Uh, you can still punch me. If it’ll help. At this point, I think I deserve it.”

Rorschach snapped his head up, his mouth parting. Dan jumped, worrying that he might have just said something wrong.

“You- _no_. Not going to _punch_ you.” He sounded horrified. “You though I was going to hit you?”

Dan blinked rapidly, surprised. The guy was taking this more seriously than he’d anticipated, apparently he couldn’t even make a good joke, Jesus. “Uh, well, you angry and you raised your fists-I mean, I was just joking. I didn’t mean…”

“Daniel, even if you were joking,” He said, very seriously, “I would _never_ hit you, no matter how angry I am, and you don’t…you don’t _deserve_ to be hit.”

Rorschach sighed, and then held his arms out to him. It took him a moment to figure out what he wanted, before Dan cautiously came in close to sit in his lap, facing him. Rorschach held him, and sighed.

“You shouldn’t feel that I would ever hit you, either.” He said. “…Even if you’d done something monumentally stupid.”

Dan giggled, a little hysterically, because of all the shit he’d just been through, and pressed his face against his partner’s neck.

“Sorry buddy.” He sighed. “I should have manned up and just told you in the first place.”

“Yes.” He growled.

Okay, he was still angry. Definitely. He’d probably be in the doghouse for a while and he _did_ deserve that. He could deal with that, though. At least the guy didn’t think he was cheating on him, or wanting to walk out on him. He could make this up to the guy, even if it took groveling, and he’d happily do it. He sighed, and just aimlessly nuzzled because he could use the close contact and comfort. At first the guy was tensed up, but he gradually calmed down, and let Daniel range and do as he liked. He even was okay with letting him kiss him, though just a chaste kiss.

Well, a chaste kiss at first. After a few moments of gentleness, he surged up and started trying to kiss the life out of him. The poor guy had been through a lot, Jesus, he’d though Daniel had been cheating on him so ‘a lot’ was probably an understatement, and right now he probably wanted to reaffirm their bond. Dan had never had ‘make-up’ sex before, and had never seen what the big deal was, but he was certainly seeing it now. The urge to get as close as physically possible was overpowering, and he kissed the guy back just as passionately. He rocked his hips, rubbing his half-hard erection on the guy’s abs, and felt him growl and buck under him. That was _definitely_ not a grappling gun in his pants, that’s for sure.

“I could,” He gasped out, in between kisses, “Make it up to you?”

“What do you have in mind?” He growled, and Dan shivered.

Daniel ground down, rubbing his ass on him in a rough lap dance. “What do you think?”

“Yes.” Rorschach moaned in his mouth, and Dan was sure he got the idea. He panted, envisioning his pants tossed across the room, riding him like it was the Kentucky Derby-

And then Rorschach pulled away. “-Once you have been cured of your…affliction.”

Daniel actually had to do a double-take, because all the blood was currently south. “…What?”

Rorschach started to work him off his lap, ignoring the absolute bafflement on Daniel’s face. “Understand you have been taking precautions, but still. Can’t be too careful.”

_…My god, he’s actually cockblocking me. Out of spite._ His brain managed, and he was too shocked to object to being maneuvered off his lap. It wasn’t until the guy was at the basement door that he managed anything more than that thought.

“Wh-wait-” he stammered.

“Be seeing you.” He said, and vanished down the steps.


	7. Chapter 7

Walter was…mostly convinced, but he went to see the Twilight lady anyway.

Perhaps it was just to confirm, to put to rest any lingering doubts, but that wasn’t it entirely. Some previously undiscovered part of him wanted to ‘stake his claim’, so to speak. It was a new sensation, feeling that he had the right to think of Daniel as ‘his’, that he was indeed entitled to see off competition like a rooster crowing and flashing it’s feathers to show it’s superiority over a rival.

(He actually had to stop at that thought, realizing he was-briefly-channeling Daniel, and wondering at the turn his life had taken.)

He was surprised to see that The Twilight Lady had increased her security, but she like all the mob bosses and drug lords that he’d taken down didn’t realize that any lock could be picked, imposing size and titanium coating notwithstanding. Her bodyguards were the most trouble, actually. Well trained and muscular, they were not for show and put her earlier gimps to shame. He strutted in, viciously satisfied.

“Require the pleasure of your company.” He growled at her, feeling bold.

She arched an eyebrow. “…You couldn’t have made an _appointment_?”

“Very busy person.” He grunted.

“Yeah, I bet.” She said sarcastically, rolling her eyes. “So, did you actually want something or did you just come over here to get in a pissing match over Daniel?”

He stiffened, surprised. “…Told you?”

“I had a lucky guess who he was with, yeah.” She cocked her head. “He didn’t tell me on purpose. Really sweetie, he’s more respectful than that, and he knows better than to tell people he with _you_ , Jesus. The media would have a field day if they got a hold of that.”

“Hnn.”He eyed her. “And you-”

“-Won’t breath a word.” She said.

He backed down, mollified somewhat. He wasn’t a fan of hers, but neither did he hate her; and she was quite harmless with no malicious intent, unlike the mob bosses that they battled with on a regular basis. She may posture as a villainess, but what she did wasn’t _technically_ illegal. She rented rooms at her club at an hourly basis, so she technically wasn’t a pimp, but a landlord. Her customers renting the rooms just _happened_ to be people that used them for sex, and paying a whore for sex wasn’t illegal, it was a pimp selling sex with his women that was. It was this narrow little definition that kept her out of jail. Her whole identity as ‘The Twilight Lady’ was a stage presence, a put on, to get attention and promote her actual business. He could tie her up and leave her for the police all he liked, she would walk out on a technicality and good lawyers. It irritated him too no end, but there was little he could do. It didn’t help that she and Daniel were old friends from collage either, and treating her roughly would anger him.

It also irritated him that she was a (former) lover of Daniel’s, but that was **not** a reason to go punching her. He’d taken out that urge on her bodyguards.

“So,” She said, casually, “What’d you wanna talk about?”

He stepped closer, looming over her reclining form. “Prefer if you didn’t maintain an _interest_ in him.”

She wasn’t impressed. “Oh please, why would I waste my time? He’s far too much of a goody two-shoes to be lured away. Besides, he’s the type that _needs_ the cuddly, lovey-dovey shit, he won’t be satisfied with just sex for long and I _hate_ that crap. It was just a matter of time before he left anyway.”

She sipped at her tea contemplatively. “Don’t you trust him?”

He dithered. He…he did trust him. But he didn’t trust himself, that he wouldn’t do _something_ , say _something_ , that would ruin it all. He in no way wanted to actually say that out loud, but it seemed she picked up on that anyway.

“He won’t leave you.” She said, her voice carefully even. “He’s not that kinda guy.”

Hearing a recommendation of loyalty from a whore is…a suspect source at best, but it still manages to be a little reassuring. Dan reassured him of his continued affection almost every day, hearing it from another source helped.

She lets him chew on that for a bit before continuing. “You know, we did talk about more than just business-which I’ve sorted out, thank god-but he also talked about you.”

He bristled. “Had no right to inquire about personal details concerning-”

“Oh please, he didn’t say anything like your dick size come _on_ , Jesus.” She said annoyed. “He wanted advice.”

He frowned, confused Daniel was always so…confident, so reassuring. It was difficult to imagine him needing guidance on relationships or sex. “Advice? Why?...About _what_?”

“Well, mostly how he’s supposed to make you comfortable with him.” She said, thinking. “You’re hardly the most sexually liberated person out there.”

He muttered something under his breath, trying to disguise how uncomfortable this was making him. Even if it didn’t include intimate details about their love life, the idea of Daniel discussing this with someone else, no matter how good of a friend.

“Which really sucks for him, considering he’s a _such_ a kinky fuck.” She says, as easy as you please, which makes him twitch.

He coughs. “…What.”

“I made a list of his kinks once.” She said airly, “It was a long list.”

He can feel his face reddening, the blots on his mask growing and spreading. He hunches his shoulders under her amused look, feeling that she knows that he’s blushing under that mask. To his horror she pulls out a list- _an actual list_ -and dangles it in front of him.

“I could read it, if you want.” She says, gleeful. He snatches it from her, furious.

“Prefer that you not.” He growled, icily formal.

She lets him take it, smugly amused. “Maybe you should try some of those things, he’d _love_ them, you know!”

He’s already heading out the door, done with this conversation and hurrying away before she said anything else.

“Stop by anytime to chat!” She yells after him, with a teasing lilt, as he practically runs out the door.

\---

It isn’t until he’s back at his little run-down tenement before he can actually calm down. Any dealing concerning the Twilight Lady left him ruffled and disorientated, not to mention irritated beyond belief.

He’s just about to strip down and stuff his costume under the floorboards when he realizes he’s _still_ holding the paper he’d taken from her, and makes a noise of disgust. He throws it onto the bed before sloughing off his uniform and dressing in a pair of dingy sweats for sleeping, and approaches it warily.

It’s a picks it up, and debates what he should do with it. It’s a very personal list, and he’d hate for it to fall into the wrong hands, to be picked apart and laughed at by a stranger (or worse, a multitude of strangers should the news get a hold of it). He glares at it, and forces himself to actually read it, just to see if it has any names or identifying information. He holds it at arm’s length, despising it’s loopy pink cursive, and starts in.

‘No means an exhaustive list. I’m starting to think his kinks _are_ kinks.

1\. Costume play (one or both of us in costume. He _has_ admitted to a fantasy about his partner Rorschach, I’ll have to find a passable costume)’

His face went red at that, not sure what to think of it. On one hand, it felt almost like a violation, the idea of a stranger dressing up as him and fucking Daniel, to have him _ask_ for something like that, without his knowledge or consent-

Another, more worrying part, wanted to know _what_ kind of fantasy.

‘2. Role play and scenes (captured and sexed up, either as the captor or captive, rescued damsel ‘thanking’ him for the save, etc. Favorite role is the captive.)’

He swallows, his mind involuntarily supplying a vision of what that last one would look like. Nite Owl trapped and at the mercy of The Twilight Lady; horribly cliché, like the plot of a bad porno. The picture of his former lover leering at her ‘captive’ doesn’t appeal, but the vision of Nite Owl caught, ready to be ravished is...

He swallows again, and shifts on the bed, trying to ignore his growing arousal.

‘Next, I gave some BDSM a try.

3\. Bondage, hoo boy does he love it.

4\. Loves aggression, rough play. He’s a natural submissive, so being dominated is a real party pleaser. Adores his lover to take charge and give it to him hard.’

He’s panting openly now, gripping the paper tightly with one hand and his sheets with the other. He has not such much as kissed Daniel or even spent time with him out of costume since talking to him about his…situation, and that was nearly a week ago. He’s spent most of his time swinging wildly between being hurt and angry at him, and missing him terribly. That complex stew of emotions had kept him from having sex with the man or even masturbating. While before he’d been able to go a month without, after getting into a relationship and having sex three times in one week and being a healthy adult male he was suddenly, dizzyingly hard. It took actual effort not to slid a hand under the worn band of his pants.

‘5. Sadism, not quite so much. He just doesn’t like hurting people, even if they like it. He’s willing, but not really his thing. He does really love orgasm denial and teasing a tied-down victim though, loves to please and the power rush that kind of position gives him.

6\. Enjoys some light Masochism. Likes being spanked, but not really into the whip. He has to be in a particular mood to be into it. Bites, nips, rough sex, all favorites.’

The last few words bring back the memories of their last lovemaking session to mind, and he’s vividly remembering Daniel moaning as he’d bitten down as he hand makes it’s inevitable creep towards his groin.

‘In my conclusion, I have to say he’s a submissive. He likes being on the bottom the best, receiving. Tied him down and fucked him with the strap on until he begged, absolute **best** experience so far.”

He has to stuff a corner of his thin blanket and bite down to keep himself from moaning at that, his hand pumping fast. He wasn’t remembering past experiences anymore, or visualizing Daniel with the Twilight Lady. This fantasy, cobbled together from the list and his own suppressed desires, was altogether something _else_.

- _Black leather glove fisted in damp brown curls, brown eyes rolling up beseechingly-_

_Hands on skin and teeth on his neck, wailing_

_Repeating **his** name until it’s the only name he knows to say_

_“Rorschach, oh go-Rorschach!”-_

It hit him hard, nearly doubling him over, and left him shuddering in the wakes of it for a long time after. For a while he could only lay there and breathe, not a single thought in his head. Eventually, he mustered enough brain cells and motor control to raise his hand, still clenched around the list. He stared at it, realizing he hadn’t even read a quarter of it and felt his lower body clench, trying to muster up a sense of arousal even in his spent state. He flushed, and carefully made his way to the bathroom to clean up.

He kept the list.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue the ‘just as planned’ reaction from TL, she knows that Rory will be too busy trying out that list and givin’ Dan allll the good dick to bother with her.


	8. Chapter 8

Being in the doghouse was a new and very _humbling_ experience. Any overt forms of groveling just wasn’t an option-he very much doubted Walter would appreciate the traditional dozen roses-so he subtly tried his best with his finest cooked dishes and tentative gestures of affection. They worked…to a degree. His partner would thaw a little, very briefly, before remembering he was supposed to be angry. Then he’d jerk away and stalk off. The periods of thaw were getting longer and the stony formality briefer, so he was slowly and surely wearing him down.

His partner kept his mask on though, and didn’t stay to socialize.

Dan did indeed get tested again at the end of his penance, and came up clean. Walter did too, sometime during the week at some free clinic that waived his fee, so at least he wouldn’t have to navigate the tricky waters of trying to offer to pay for it. Walter hated handouts, but it was his fault the guy had to get tested so it all might balance out, but it was better that they got to avoid that entirely.

They sat across from each other at the kitchen table, printouts and files spread between them like they were working on a case, and sat in awkward silence. Well, awkward silence for him. Rorschach was as unmoving and unreadable as ever. Dan _really_ missed being able to see his face, and it wasn’t just so he could read it and gauge how pissed he was at any given moment. His face could never be called beautiful or handsome, and at the very best could be described as ‘homely’. However, looking at him through the distorted glasses of love, he could be described as cute, at least to Dan who adored his freckles and crooked smile. He also missed being able to kiss that rawboned face, to see him shy, yet pleased look on his face whenever Dan complimented him.

“So, uhm.” Dan paused. “That’s…good, then. I guess we’re all…set?”

Rorschach nodded, and Dan mentally sighed, realizing he was probably going to get up and leave, like he’d been doing for the last week or so. He deliberated, and finally got around to the question he’d been wanting to ask for the past week before the man ran off.

“The last time we, uh…were intimate, you…” He coughed. “You seemed a little anxious?”

Rorschach froze, and Dan swallowed, now deeply worried that he’d overstepped. For a few nail-biting moments, there was silence. Finally, he actually pulled the mask off, and there was Walter, looking ashamed.

“Thought that you were…was acting so strongly that I thought you were going to say that you wanted to end the relationship.” He swallowed. “Thought that maybe if I…”

Dan felt horrified, realizing that that the last time he’d had sex with him that it may not have been _entirely_ consensual. Unthinkingly he reaches out and grasps one of his hands, trying to ignore the way he jumps and does his best to put as much affection into the contact. He’d hug him, but he’s not sure if that would go over well.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry buddy.” Dan said, feeling himself choking up. “I know how many issues you have with…with sex, I so fucking sorry you felt like you had to have sex with me just to keep our relationship.”

“Wasn’t…wasn’t the only reason.” Walter swallowed. “You…you are very gentle and attentive. Wanted to be close and feel that.”

Dan struggled to smile. “Thanks buddy, but you should only ever want to have sex with me because you want to feel that, not because you feel you have too.”

Walter smiled, touched. It addressed an issue that had been riding him since…well, since he’d started up this relationship, actually. He’d sometimes felt that he was being a burden, taking so much time getting used to all this. Sometimes he’d agonized over perhaps forcing himself to go further than he felt he could handle.

“Thank you, Daniel.” He said, gently. “Will keep it in mind, and…do forgive you, for that. And for the rest of what happened this week.”

Dan let go of a shaky breath and smiled at him. “Oh, good. And I will never pull this kind of crap again.”

He just kept…stroking his thumb over Walter’s hand, reluctant to let go and he let him, having missed the touch. Eventually, though he stood, looking ready to leave, pulling the mask down, leaving just his lower face. Dan got up himself to grab Rorschach’s empty coffee cup with a resigned air, figuring he might as well start on the dishes.

It was only until he was standing close that Dan noticed the guy was shaking. The tremors were tiny, but they got worse the closer he was. He felt alarm creeping in, because shaking could be anything; fear, anger, nervousness…god, he wished he could see more than that little triangle of face.

“Buddy?” He frowned. “…You okay?”

 

He saw his partner lick his lips, and tense like he was bracing for something, and then suddenly Dan found himself pinned to the wall.

\---

“R-Rorschach?” Dan said, breathless and shrill, sudden terror singing in his veins. Apparently, the guy had come to the belated decision to beat him into the floor after all.

His partner leaned in, probably to do his signature head-butt to break his nose, and Dan braced to shove him away. To his utter confusion, the guy kissed him instead, slowly, like he was savoring him. He eventually did relax, melting under the slow torturous press of lips. His partner finally pulled away, licking his lips in a satisfied way.

“N-not, that I, uh, mind but…” He said, breathily. “What, uh…?”

He cocked his head. “Thought you would like it.”

“I do!” _Holy god, do I-_ “But, ah, I was wondering what prompted it?”

“Talked to the Twilight Lady.”

Dan’s eye’s widened. “You did? Uh, did you, er-”

“Left her in one piece, if your concerned.” He growled. “…Her bodyguards too, although with headaches.”

Dan giggled, a little high pitched, and Rorschach’s lips twitched before gripping his wrists almost painfully tight to bring him back to the subject at hand.

“Had a very stimulating conversation with her.” He growled, (he was pleased to note Daniel actually shivered) “Seem to have quite a variety of…interests.”

His eye’s went wide. “Ohgod. What did she tell you?”

“Enough.” He let his voice drop into an even lower register, silk over sandpaper. Usually he used that kind of tone to threaten an informant into talking, and normally he wouldn’t dream using it on his partner, but since it seemed to be working so well…

Daniel actually _whimpered_ , a soft, overwhelmed sound, and he had to restrain himself from jumping him right then and there. He felt fierce and unfettered, the borrowed confidence from his costume keeping him from sinking into self-consciousness.

“Mentioned you had in interest in my uniform.” He said, intentionally tilting his head down so the brim of his hat could put his face into partial shadow. It was an intimidating pose, and it made Daniel squirm guiltily.

“I know you feel like it’s sacred, but its just-I mean, I love how you’re so confidant and dangerous wearing it…”

He preened, both touched and immensely flattered. His costume was still sacrosanct, and true, at one time he’d not wanted to drag it into this ‘filth’. However, his definition of what was filthy had changed, and he’d realized that a loving, consensual act that brought pleasure and closeness to both of them wasn’t depraved.

“Hnn, still sacred. But this isn’t sinful.”

Dan blinked rapidly, surprised, before grinning widely with that familiar look of fondness in his eyes- _knows how difficult it is to come that conclusion, glad that he’s at peace with it_ -and feels a warm glow of affection kindle in his own chest. Before Daniel could say anything sappy and completely sincere, he spins him around, hooks an ankle behind one knee, and in a blur of brutal efficacy he had him kneeling on the kitchen floor.

“Also mentioned that you appreciate being restrained.” He growled behind his ear, pulling cuffs out of his pocket.

Daniel’s eyes go impossibly wide, staring mesmerized at the gleaming metal being dangled in front of his face. “P-please?”

He can’t help but shiver at the little broken stutter in the plea, and reverently cinches them on. Wrists restrained, his hands are free to wind into Daniel’s hair, and he tilts his head back. Rorschach kisses him then, struggling not to devour his mouth, marveling at the way he melts under him, easily submitting. He has never before considered how he would feel in the ‘dominant’ role of a ‘scene’ (he’d only just learned the words, the definitions, courtesy of the Twilight Lady) but he’s seeing the appeal. The way Daniel is completely at his mercy, the trust inherent in that gesture, both fills him with pride that he’s earned that, and humbling in that he’s so willing to give it to him.

He’s only able to keep it slow and gentle for a few minutes before the urge to jump him becomes overpowering, and he has to break away. Daniel follows him briefly looking bereft, and it’s difficult not to give in, but he’s able to restrain himself and help the man to his feet. Although he’s sure the man is aroused enough that he’s let Rorschach bend him over any convenient horizontal surface, he leads him upstairs to the privacy and comfort of the bedroom. Dan follows him like a lost puppy, eyes wide and lost behind his glasses.

Upstairs, he’s almost at a loss of what to do with a submissive, eager Daniel. So far, all of their lovemaking has been under the guidance of his more experienced partner, and he’s briefly unsure of what to do next. For a moment, his reticence almost gets the better of him, but he was distracted when Daniel-either sensing his problem or just good timing-kneeled down in front of him and licked his lips.

“M-may I-?” He jerked his chin in the direction of his crotch, and everything below the belt clenched. The mixture of meekness and eagerness that Daniel was exhibiting was pretty potent, which insured that complying with the shy request was probably a bad idea, no matter how much he wanted to. He’d probably last two seconds under the assault, and he wanted to return all the one-sided sex he’d been getting so far _before_ he exploded in a sticky mess.

“Some other time.” He rasped, lust making him hoarse. He carded his hand through the other man’s hair in apology, and Dan cooed and nuzzled. “Should return the favor first. Been doing all the work so far, only fair.”

Dan flushed and squirmed, and eagerly got up and sat at the edge of the bed when requested. He looked him over first, mulling over his next move. Daniel waited, slightly impatient, muscles twitching as he tried not to wiggle all over the place.

 _…Pity all those muscles are under cloth. Works of art should be one display._ Rorschach mused.

Dan flushed even more as his partner pulled his thin tee over his head and divested him of his pants, underwear, even socks. He was suddenly glad that it was still summer and that he didn’t have his ac on full blast, though he was sure even if that had been the case he wouldn’t have been chilly for long.

Rorschach stepped back, and simply admired for a moment. He’d never seen his partner fully nude before, and he was wondering why he’d ever objected to Daniel changing in front of him, prudery or no. He had the rounded, well defined musculature of Greek sculpture. Although he was far more appealing, what with his with being warm and touchable, not to mention the erection he was sporting, flushed pink and tucked against his lower stomach. He had to surreptitiously adjust himself-Daniel watching every move-before it was his turn to kneel.

Just breathing on it made it twitch, and he did it again, fascinated. Above him Dan squirmed, like doing that actually tickled, and he had to suppress a smile. He leaned in, smelling musk and arousal, and gave the tip a cautious lick. Other than a very slight, bitter tang he tasted like he did everywhere else. He kept tentatively exploring with light tastes and touches, learning the shape of him and the differences compared to himself. He was cut, which he’d known from seeing him the last time, and he gently traced the very faint scar-so faint it’s just a slight discoloration on the skin-with the tip of his tongue, making him shudder.

He’s not sure he could fit all of it in his mouth, not without choking, so he ranges, licking along the underside or fitting the tip in his mouth and sucking gently. Daniel gives him breathless, stuttering advice on how to slowly take more, instructing him wrap his hand around the shaft and slowly go down, his teeth safely covered. He’s only able to take half before it’s uncomfortable, but that doesn’t seem to matter. Dan moans encouragingly anyway, his hips making tiny, abortive movements, as he does his best not to thrust into his mouth. He’s not so self-confidant to think that his virgin skills are all that good, but he feels that the combination of Daniel’s costume and bondage kinks are doing their fair share to help, and is proud of himself for pulling that off skillfully enough to balance out the beginner’s blowjob. He’s also surprised that this act is turning him on as well, something about the weight and shape and the way it feels in his mouth makes his cock twitch. He’s eventually moaning too, fucking his mouth on Daniel’s cock, his partner making delighted, breathless noises. Or well, until he cried out.

“St-stop, stop!”

He froze, lips still wrapped around him, confused and alarmed.

“O-okay.” Dan gasped, trying to get his breath back. “I’m cl-close. I don’t know if you, ah, want to-”

He flushed, understanding what he meant, and let him go with a soft _pop_. “Hnn, not yet. Have other things I want to try.”

Dan made a shuddery moan. “Like what?”

Rorschach smiled and didn’t answer right away, just requested that he lay back on the bed. Once Daniel said he was comfortable, he gently pushed his knees up and apart, running his hands along the tender skin of the inner thigh.

“She also mentioned another thing you liked.” He said, greedily massaging the warm skin, making his way higher.

“And uh, what was that?” Dan said, his voice high with anticipation _oh please be what I’m thinking, pretty please-_

Again, not an immediate answer, just his hands moving higher, groping his ass and sliding along his taint. Dan inhaled sharply when a finger slid across his hole. Rorschach cocked his head at the noise, giving him a questioning look.

“Please?” He whined, making his partner shiver.

“Where is your-?”

“Oh! Uh, top drawer of the nightstand.” He said, glad he’d asked. Dan was so lost in the moment he’d actually forgotten about _lube_ for fuck’s sakes, he was too ridiculously turned on for there to be enough blood left to think straight. At least one of them was focused, thank god.

Of course, that also didn’t leave enough blood for him to remember that he had things in the drawer that he didn’t exactly want Rorschach to see.

It wasn’t until he’d gotten the drawer open and had paused for a good few seconds that Dan jerked his head over to stare at him, the look on his face sheepish.

“…Quite the variety.” He said dryly, struggling to keep the amusement out of his voice. Dan coughed, embarrassed.

And it _was_ quite the variety. Most of which he wasn’t sure what the purpose was of, and was actually curious about how some of them worked, but another day. He plucked up a bottle and a condom, and returned to Daniel, who was spread and open and ready but...He hovered, indecisive. He actually wasn’t sure what to do, now. He’d tried it on himself, once, after reading that list and knowing he should probably practice so he could do it right for Daniel. However, he hadn’t had anything other than his own saliva, and that coupled with his own misgivings made him too tight and not moist enough to make it anything other than too uncomfortable to try.

“I could show you.” Dan said, quietly, his eyes shining. He was not only trying to be helpful, but to put on a show for his partner.

He nodded, and helped prop him up with pillows so he could reach easily and not have to strain. Dan gave him a quick kiss in appreciation, and Rorschach purred into his mouth, kneading his thighs. He then leaned back to watch attentively, trying to actually learn and not come from watching him expertly slick his fingers and slide them in, stretching his hole. He can’t help but cup himself as he watches the display, and Daniel watches him too, panting.

After a few moments, Rorschach reaches for him. “May I-?”

Daniel nodded eagerly, withdrawing to let him slide in a slick, calloused finger. He’s glad to note the guy has actually trimmed down and cleaned his usually cracked, dirty fingernails, which shows a level of foresight to let him know that the bastard had actually thought this over to the degree that he’d actually planned for this contingency, and tries not to giggle. He probably would have taken his amusement the wrong way, and he doesn’t want _anything_ to interrupt the sensation of his finger slowly, carefully, working its way in. He mimics what Daniel was doing earlier, stroking him gently, enough to tickle but not _quite_ enough to see stars.

“Does this…” He pauses, then tries again. “Does it feel good?”

Thiers a question there, and Dan struggles to get enough blood back to answer. “Y-yeah, it, uh, theirs the prostate up there and if you rub it-”

Rorschach carefully feels around, hoping it _can_ be felt, when Dan interrupts himself with a sharp gasp. He pauses, and cautiously rubs against that spot again, feeling just the slight change in texture, and his partner whines softly. He keeps going, alternating rubbing it firmly and circling a finger around it, noting the way he panted and moaned. 

“Oh god-“ Dan said, his voice part laugh, part sob. “Just-please, fuck me already!”

Rorschach bared his teeth in a fierce grin, and practically tore off his belt. He was sensitive and unskilled, so it took _entirely_ too long to get the condom on, but he forced himself to do it anyway. He’d heard they dulled sensation a little, which he desperately needed, because he was sure he’d have spontaneously combusted at the first touch of Daniel’s puckered hole on his cock. It was a struggle, too, to go slow, having to feel every inch of his cock slowly enveloped in the moist heat, but eventually he was able to feel him pressed against the base without coming.

He had to pause then, to get his breath-and sanity-back, and to give Daniel time to adjust. He’d overheard the other seamstresses gossiping, the way their men started jackhammering right away in disparaging tones, about how uncomfortable and unpleasant it was that that they didn’t give them time to relax, how quick they’d come. He’s not sure if that is really the same here, but he wants to avoid hurting him if at all possible, and he doesn’t want to come in two seconds flat, and Daniel rewards him with gentle kisses on his panting mouth.

“Oh god, you’re doing so good, so good-“ Dan says breathily, in between kisses. He shivers under the fervent affection, and tries to return the kisses the best he can.

“Ready?” He rasps.

Daniel makes a liquid, eager noise, and he cautiously starts to move. Slow at first, trying to get used to the sensation, see how deep he could go. The friction and the feel of him sliding along his cock feels so good he almost wants to savor it, but Daniel is soon making soft, formless pleas for him to fuck him hard and deep. He’s quickly goaded into throwing all caution to the wind and thrusting as hard as can, Daniel making sharp, delighted noises. He’s got his teeth in the man’s neck, and he feels possessive and vicious, like he’s laying claim on his lover with a mark on his neck and his cock wringing moans out of his partner.

 _“Mine.”_ He manages to snarl in his ear, his voice low and raspy with strain.

Dan just barely breaths out a very garbled ‘yours’ and ‘Rorschach!’ and he shivers.

He doesn’t last long-he can’t _possibly_ last, not with Daniel saying that-but he somehow manages to get a hand on his partner’s cock and take him with him with harsh, fast strokes. It feels so indescribably good to have him come on his cock, spasming all around him, his wailing thin and lost.

Afterwards for an indiscernible amount of time he just lies on him, boneless. Daniel makes mushy, vague noises that sound like praise, and he’s too out of it to feel abashed. All he feels right now is a muzzy sense of pride, and works up just enough motor control to squeeze him in reply, not enough blood in his brain to make a verbal response. They stay that way until he softens enough to gently pull out, and he clumsily releases him from the cuffs, rubbing Daniel’s wrists.

“Okay?” He rasps, a little hoarse.

“I’m fine.” He says, kissing the still-gloved hands, feeling unabashedly sappy. Rorschach smiles fondly at him, and then helps him to his feet to make their wobbly way to the shower.

Under the spray and stripped of his costume-the power and confidence it gave-Walter feels the shame try to creep in. With one glance, Daniel seems to know and reels him in to press against his chest. It’s still hooking it’s claws into him, but it’s blunted by the warmth and comfort of the close contact.

“Love you too , buddy.”

Walter looked up, startled.

“I didn’t get the chance to say if after you…” He sighed. “And, well, saying it when you were so mad just felt kind of cheap.”

Dan gave him a remorseful look. “Sorry I didn’t say it earlier, either. I, uh, wasn’t sure if it was too soon.”

Walter searched his face. “Not…not just saying it because I said it?”

“No buddy, it’s for real.” Daniel smiled again, a bit sadly. “I know that when you said it earlier you were…”

“Said it earlier under…duress.” He coughed, and quickly amended. “Not that I, ah, didn’t mean it then.”

He paused. “Love you too, Daniel. Have no other reason to say it now, though, other than it’s the truth and I would like you to know.”

Dan beamed at him, a gave him a tight hug. The rest of the shower was spent using up the hot water in companionable silence, transgressions forgiven (though not forgotten, on Daniel’s part) in the quiet warmth and gentle touch.


End file.
